Happy Holidays
by Hyaenaa
Summary: It's Christmas and apparently Gamora is really in the holiday spirit, having decorated the Milano. With gingerbread cookies as a distraction, however, Peter finds himself under the mistletoe with none other than Rocket.


**Happy Holidays**

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><p>The night sky was dark, the only detail alerting the Guardians of the Galaxy that they were not in a sea of ink being the distant flecks of light that trailed across the sky like dust. Peter Quill stared out the main window in quiet contemplation.<p>

Every so often he would stop by one of the culturally knowledgeable stores on Xandar, if given the opportunity, and pick up a Terran calendar. He honestly couldn't even be entirely sure that they were accurate, but if they were, then that day was a very special holiday on his planet. Something he remembered as Christmas.

It had been... Ages, honestly, _decades_ since he'd celebrated the holiday. The Ravagers weren't exactly much for seasonal spirit, let alone concerning a Terran holiday. But he remembered it well; it was something meant to be spent with family. A day to be happy and show each other how much you love those closest to you. For a long time, he hadn't had people like that in his life. He was surrounded by peers that wanted to quite literally eat him. As in, gut, cut, cook and dine; the whole shebang. It was not a family friendly atmosphere. But now he had the rest of the Guardians! They were his friends, perhaps even close enough to be considered his family. A really awkward family, that had some not-so-platonic tension here and there, but hey, that wasn't uncommon in other worlds so he was over it.

"Friend Quill, does something trouble you?" Drax's voice rang out in the silence as the much bulkier man climbed up the steps. "You have been lacking in your usual antics on this day."

"Antics?" Peter huffed, a light smile tugging at his lips. "Today's... Actually a really special day from where I came from. A holiday, really."

"Ahh," Drax smiled fondly. "I recall the ceremonies on my home world. My favorite was, on a particular day after harvest, we would sacrifice the oils from our bodies into a large cauldron, and then together we would dine, using it as flavoring for meat."

Peter fought the bile rising in his throat and nodded politely, attempting to coat his wince as an awkwardly placed cough. "Oh. That's... Wow, um, that's really... Neat, Drax. Okay..." He shook his head to recover from the thought before continuing. "My holiday is one where everyone gives each other gifts, sings together, and spends time showing each other how much they love each other."

"You Terrans and your singin'," Rocket chimed in, clamoring up the steps with Groot not far behind. "I'm glad I ain't ever visited. It's prolly somethin' like a live musical, non-stop, with how you act."

"I am Groot." Their wooden friend chimed in, only just having managed to reach a foot tall and therefore be released from his pot.

"Yeah, Quill sure _is_ special," Rocket agreed, but his voice was sour in a way that indicated it was not a _pleasant_ sort of special.

"We were - having a private conversation here? Do you just, bust into everyone's conversation, just whenever?" Peter chastised Rocket. There was no real malice in his voice as he quirked an eyebrow, but he and Rocket bantered enough that it might've come off as serious.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure that whatever you were sayin' to Drax here 'bout singin' and showin' love was real private," Rocket snickered. "Would you like us to leave you two _alone?_" The way the word 'alone' crawled off of Rocket's voice, dripping with insinuations that made Peter cringe even more than he had when Drax mentioned his favorite tradition.

"Why do you mock Peter Quill's ceremony? It is a thing of honor. Do you not understand the significance of willingly exchanging gifts?" Drax demanded.

Rocket shot him a suspicious glance at the word 'willingly', before he scoffed. "Defendin' your lil Star-Love. Typical."

"You are really eager for that to be true." Peter rolled his eyes.

"I am Groot," Groot poked at Rocket, receiving a gentle yet firm swipe and an annoyed glare from his furrier friend.

"Quill?" Gamora called distantly, most likely from the living room. "You must come immediately. Bring the others!"

The four glanced to each other in mild surprise, before going through with Gamora's orders. It was not often that she was the one to call them all together. Still, it was true that she definitely believed strongly in the sense of community they had, despite her interest in solitude. Peter supposed it had to do with being alone beforehand - something they could all honestly relate to.

When they arrived in the living room, Peter was just about to ask what was so urgent that they all had to be there before he froze in the doorway and gasped.

All along the walls, small colorful lights were strung. Accompanying them were jingle bells and a few ornaments here and there. There was even a wreath hanging above the communication console. A small, plastic green triangle that vaguely resembled a Christmas tree, only a few inches tall, perched on the table in the center of the room. On the counter, there were several gingerbread cookies, all decorated with frosting. Peter realized, belatedly, that they were all supposed to represent each of them. A green one with black icing for Gamora, a bluish-green one with red icing for Drax, a brown black and orange one with a small tail for Rocket, a brown and green one for Groot, and one with what looked like an attempted red jacket and a small grey helmet with red eyes... For himself.

"Oh my God, what," Peter croaked out, tearing up.

Gamora looked almost embarrassed, if one were good enough to assess her emotions from her very subtle expressions. She shifted her weight onto the other hip, glancing at the lights. "I saw that you had marked today on your Terran date record and decided to research what it meant. I liked what I saw. It seemed... Pleasant."

"So you actually - like, actually - took time out of your day to... To put up Christmas decorations?" His voice was high pitched; he may have been wheezing.

She stared at him, face difficult to read, but Peter didn't care. He was so overwhelmed, he was probably shaking, and he tripped over his own feet on his way across the room to embrace her. She stiffened into the hug, but awkwardly pat his back and stepped away almost forcefully after a moment or so.

"So _this_ is your tradition," Drax mused.

Peter turned to see him and Groot staring at the lights in awe. Groot climbed his way up onto the couch so that he could reach up and touch one, jumping when it flickered against his branches. He smiled excitedly. "I am Groot!"

"Yeah," Rocket hummed, voice clearly disinterested. "Neat. Hey, can I eat one of these cookies? That one looks like me."

Gamora nodded. "They are for all of us."

Peter made a sort of excited shriek that died in his throat, and he and Rocket both went for the cookies in a simultaneous fashion, Drax and Groot too busy admiring Gamora's decor. As soon as they made it to the kitchen doorway, though, Gamora cleared her throat very loudly, causing both Peter and Rocket to pause long enough for her to laugh. It was not loud or obstructive like the rest of theirs'; instead a very soft, breathy sound.

"I believe the two of you are beneath the mist-lay toe." She commented.

"_Mistle_toe? Wh..." Peter's eyes widened as he glanced up and saw that what she said was true. "Whoa! Why'd you put one of those up there?"

She shrugged. "It came with the rest of the items. Still, now you must follow with the rules."

"Rules?" Rocket glared. "What exactly does a plant hangin' from the ceiling entail we do? It can't make us do anythin'."

"I am Groot," Groot commented, sounding almost offended.

"Do you see it waltzing around with a mind of it's own?" Rocket replied, this time directing his words towards Groot.

"Uh, maybe we could skip out on that part of the holiday?" Peter smiled in an almost begging sort of manner.

Gamora looked unimpressed while Drax picked up Groot, who was frowning. Drax stepped forth before he joined the conversation. "What must they do?"

Without breaking eye contact with Peter, Gamora answered, voice almost entirely neutral to the situation at hand aside from a little sadistic amusement. "Any two people who walk beneath a... _Mistletoe_, are to kiss."

"Whoa, wait! What?" Rocket exclaimed, tail shooting up.

"Yeah, let's not?" Peter cringed. He just wanted a cookie-

"You must!" Drax insisted, seeming almost insulted even though it wasn't his holiday. "It is the tradition."

"Groot? Back me up here. I don't wanna lock lips with Mr. Womanizer, they're probably covered in filth." Rocket glanced to Groot for help.

Groot, still sore about the plant comment, sniffed indignantly and looked away. Peter frowned at Rocket.

"Filth? I'll have you know that my lips are _very_ clean." He groused.

"Hurry and join your tongues so that we may dine on Gamora's bakery treats," Drax commanded.

Gamora stared them down, waiting, and Peter had a feeling that she only wanted to see if they would _actually_ kiss. He sighed in resignation before he got down on his knees so that he was almost level with Rocket, before hunching down even further. Rocket backed away, looking as though he was not only alarmed but in a state of disbelief. Peter steeled himself over. He would do this for the cookies.

"Back up, Quill! I-" Rocket started to sputter only to be cut off by Peter leaning forward to kiss him.

When they finally got down to it, Peter realized that it actually wasn't so bad. Rocket's lips were pretty warm, actually. Not what he expected. Fur bunched up around them, too, and it kinda tickled, but in a nice, inviting sort of way. He found himself leaning in and then Rocket's lips were parting slightly, inhaling, and Peter was jumping on that like a vulture. His tongue ran gently over the thick, blunt front of Rocket's teeth, carefully evading the sharper ends. Peter gently touched the fur along his neck, mostly because his hands felt awkward hanging at his sides, and it was pretty darned soft. Much softer than it looked.

Rocket made a strangled noise that sounded suspiciously close to a moan and he tilted his head, allowing Peter to run his tongue over the front of his roof. Rocket's tongue met his, and wow, that was really interesting. His tongue was sort of thin, yet broad. It wasn't textured the same way that Peter's was, either. It was much flatter, and it was so, so warm as it curiously stroked his, curling against his gums. Peter grasped Rocket's fur now, rubbing it between his fingers and just enjoying the way that it felt. He wondered if it felt the same all over as he brushed it down before ruffling it up again. Rocket made another one of those muffled moans into Peter's mouth and all of a sudden Peter thought he was addicted to that noise - like a catchy song stuck in his head. He wanted to hear it again and again, less obstructed, louder, right in his ear, against his skin.

When they pulled back, both of them were pretty winded. Rocket's eyes were wide, wide and glassy and Peter suspected that his were half-lidded, and his cheeks felt pretty hot. After a moment it also occurred to him that not only were his fingers still tangled in Rocket's fur, but Rocket was also grasping both of his shoulders with his tiny, black hands. They stared at each other, and the same thought reflected in both of their expressions.

_Wow_.

"Wow," Gamora said it out loud, sounding rather shocked.

Peter and Rocket jumped away from each other as though they'd been burnt, having forgotten momentarily about the presence of their friends. All coherency rushed back to Peter and he gasped out loud.

"That - that never happened, oh my God." Peter declared, voice shrill.

"Holy flarkin' hell, yeah, let's agree to never speak of that again." Rocket concurred, sounding just as disquieted.

"The amount of passion I just witnessed will likely not leave my mind for awhile," Drax admitted dryly, and he didn't look too happy about having the image of Peter and Rocket making out burned into his memories.

"That was. Interesting," Gamora's two cents.

Peter stood up and yanked the mistletoe down, throwing it across the room where it got lost in the darkness of the hallway. "It. _Never_. Happened." He reiterated, voice stern.

"I am Groot." Groot replied, and he sounded as though he was laughing on the inside.

"Shut up!" Rocket hissed, before stomping into the kitchen and swiping a cookie off of the table, biting into it furiously.

The rest filed in after him. They all took a cookie, except for Peter, who squinted at the plate in confusion. It took him a long moment to realize that Rocket had taken Star-Lord cookie, leaving his own in it's place. Peter stared for a moment, and glanced up to see Gamora eyeing him in speculation. She seemed to accept whatever she saw, a smile hinting at her lips before she bit off the head of her cookie. Peter glanced over to the corner where he saw Rocket, chewing on the remnants of what was designated earlier as _his_ cookie. Rocket glanced over, looking peeved, but at the same time, the moment their eyes met he knew.

Rocket _liked_ that kiss.

Peter smirked and snatched Rocket's cookie, biting into it and savoring the flavor. It was a good thing he wasn't the only one who liked it, because honestly, it'd be pretty awkward otherwise. He sent Rocket a wink, which was returned only with a middle finger, and Peter decided that he fucking loved Christmas.

(And kissing Rocket. He was totally going to do that again.)

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><p><strong>Oh my God this was supposed to be a really quick short. I'm writing this at a public computer right now. I'm actually on vacation and shouldn't be on the computer at all but Hell, I really wanted to write something festive - mostly to cheer myself up. I'm going to be spending Christmas with people who think I'm possessed by the Devil.<strong>

**Hope ya'll like. Happy holidays and stuff.**


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